Chapter 2 - The Uninvited Guest
My heart hammered violently against my ribs, but I did not break my polite smile.
Brooke Ellis was standing less than fifty feet away from our table.
She was stunning, radiating the kind of effortless youth and aggressive confidence that Richard desperately craved.
She typed furiously on her phone, clearly annoyed that she was waiting.
A second later, Richard’s phone buzzed aggressively in his suit pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and frowned in irritation.
"My apologies, Daniel," Richard said in English, his tone shifting immediately to a respectful business cadence.
"A minor crisis with one of our property managers."
"I need to step away for two minutes."
He kissed my cheek—a dry, perfunctory peck—and stood up.
"Be a dear and keep them entertained, Margaret," he ordered softly.
I watched him walk toward the entrance, his broad shoulders tense.
He intercepted Brooke before she could enter the dining room, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a secluded alcove near the coat check.
The moment he was out of earshot, the atmosphere at the table shifted drastically.
Daniel Han folded his hands on the table and looked at me with intense scrutiny.
"Your husband's Korean is quite poor, Mrs. Halston," Daniel said in flawless English.
"It is," I agreed smoothly.
Grace Han leaned forward, her dark eyes flashing with sudden, fierce solidarity.
"But yours is not," Grace stated softly in perfect Korean.
"I saw how you reacted when he mentioned the Cayman Islands."
I dropped the vacuous smile entirely.
I looked at the billionaire investor and his wife, shedding the persona of the ignorant, dependent housewife.
"I spent six years working as a certified legal and medical interpreter in Los Angeles, Mrs. Han," I replied in formal, flawless Korean.
"I translated complex corporate litigation for the California Supreme Court."
Daniel’s eyebrows rose slightly, a rare display of genuine surprise.
"Yet your husband just told me you don't understand serious money," Daniel noted.
"My husband believes what he needs to believe to feel powerful," I answered calmly.
"He also believes he is going to secure a four-hundred-and-eighty-million-dollar investment from your family tonight."
Daniel’s expression hardened into a mask of cold, calculating business acumen.
"I do not invest my family's legacy with men who casually betray their partners, Margaret."
"A man who will lie to his wife for thirty years will undoubtedly lie to his investors within thirty days."
Grace reached across the table and briefly touched my hand.
"What are you going to do?" she asked gently.
I looked toward the alcove, where Richard was currently engaged in a heated, hushed argument with his thirty-two-year-old mistress.
"Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, my attorney is filing for a brutal, highly publicized divorce," I told them.
Daniel nodded slowly, a predatory smile forming on his lips.
"Perhaps we can help you make it even more brutal," Daniel offered.
He pulled a sleek, silver pen from his jacket and wrote a number on a silk napkin.
"My forensic accountants are the best in the world."
"Call this number in the morning, and they will find every single penny he hid in the Caymans."
Before I could thank him, a waiter rushed up to the table, looking incredibly frantic.
May you like
"Excuse me, Mr. Han," the waiter gasped.
"The gentleman you were dining with just collapsed in the lobby."
